


Explosions

by FayeBell



Series: Moments in Life [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkwardness, Canon Compliant, F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, George and Angelina are the cutest, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Post-Canon, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Post-War, Steamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26029867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FayeBell/pseuds/FayeBell
Summary: "“You alright?” she asked, frowning a little. “What? Oh, yeah, uh. You, uhm, look really pretty, tonight,” he stammered awkwardly. “Not that you don’t look pretty, usually, you, ah, always look really good but tonight you look … extraordinarily good…”" (A/G)
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley
Series: Moments in Life [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878286
Kudos: 17





	Explosions

**\- 1998 -**

September felt cold, this year. Or maybe it was just life in general, George Weasley wasn’t quite sure. Nothing had really been the same ever since … He still couldn’t bear the thought, still awoke every morning, expecting to hear _his_ soft snoring from the other side of the wall, still winced every time he looked in the mirror, demonstratively turning his head, to see the smooth patch of skin were his ear used to be. This distinctive trait, that had distinguished him from his brother, was the only thing keeping him sane these days.

It reminded him of who he was, because he felt like he didn’t really know anymore. He doubted whether he’d ever had a personality of his own. Fred was the one who did most of the talking, he was their driving force the doer, whereas he, George, was quieter, more calculating, planning. He usually went along with Fred’s ideas – not that they ever contradicted his own, surely, they were so much alike, it wouldn’t even have been possible – and now there was nothing but emptiness.

What do you do when half your soul is missing? How do you keep going? He wasn’t sure. He survived day by day. During the summer Ginny and – to his surprise – Percy were the ones keeping him sane. Ginny talked to him a lot, when he would barricade himself in his room, refusing to eat. She’d just sit outside his door for hours and she’d talk about Quidditch, about school, about Harry going off to become an Auror, about how much she loved that skinny git who’d defeated the evilest wizard of all time.

That was when George had opened the door, gave her a stern look and told her, if he’d ever caught them doing more than snogging, Ginny might be in need of a new boyfriend. She had smirked and entered his room without permission. Then she’d simply just hug him, while he buried his face in his sister’s hair and wondered how the fuck he had come to deserve her.

During the summer he had started to fix up _Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes,_ with the help of Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson and Ron, before the latter had to start his Auror Training. He hung out with Angelina and Lee, and Alicia Spinnet, too, a lot. Alicia and Lee had a thing going, George wasn’t really sure what it was exactly. And then Angelina had asked him, if he wanted to get a drink someday – _just the two of them. Fuck._ He felt guilty. He knew Fred had liked her, even though they never really dated, and mostly she’d just been their friend – but still.

“Are you mad? Of course, you’re going to meet her at the pub!” Ginny had exclaimed when he’d told her about it. When he tried to protest, she immediately shut him down and ordered him to accept Angelina’s invitation.

And now here he was, shortly after his baby sister had left for her last year at Hogwarts. He was sitting at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron, it was already twilight outside and Angelina was five minutes late. Admittedly, he had been fifteen minutes early, but still.

Then someone opened the door, letting a cool breeze inside, and as he turned in his seat, he saw her. She wore a heavy travelling cloak, which she pulled off upon entering the warmth of the pub. Her long, shiny dark hair fell in dozens of braids over her shoulder, her dark skin was glowing a little from the cold outside. She beamed as her eyes fell upon him, hurrying towards him. George felt a blush creeping up his neck and was suddenly very thankful for the dim lighting. Shit.

“Hi,” Angelina smiled brightly, hugging him for greeting. He felt her breath on his cheek for a moment, the coolness of her hands on his back through his shirt and the heat radiating from her body, as he reciprocated the hug by putting his hands on her lower back.

“Hello,” he replied hoarsely, finally allowing himself to really look at her. She had always been beautiful, but he felt that tonight she looked absolutely stunning. Her lips were full and seemed oddly shiny – he wondered whether she was wearing any kind of makeup – her skin was smooth and perfect and her soft, dark green eyes sparkled. His gaze lingered on her features, her dark eyelashes, which were so long they cascaded shadows on her cheekbones and the way her jaw melted into the column of her neck and down to her collarbones.

“You alright?” she asked, frowning a little.

“What? Oh, yeah, uh. You, uhm, look really pretty, tonight,” he stammered awkwardly. “Not that you don’t look pretty, usually, you, ah, always look really good but tonight you look … extraordinarily good…”

He cringed, averting his gaze and rubbing his hands over his face. His fingers grazed the place where his ear should’ve been and he groaned slightly. What the fuck was he thinking? He was a complete mess and earless, too! And she was gorgeous and confident and a Quidditch player! He should just leave …

“Why, thank you, George,” Angelina said smoothly, reaching out to remove his hands from his face. He looked at her. She was positively beaming.

“Why don’t you order me a drink? Merlin knows, I’m bloody thirsty!”

George gulped, but motioned towards Tom, the barman.

*

“… and you believe what she said to me then? If I’d ever consider getting rid of _that ridiculous hair_! Can you believe that, can you?” Angelina was roaring with laughter and George had to seize her around the waist to keep her steady, as they were strolling down Diagon Alley.

“She didn’t!” he gasped out between heavy giggles.

“She did! And _that_ is why I ain’t playing for the fucking harpies!” Angelina was now barely able to walk and she had to wrap her arms around George’s middle as not to fall to the ground.

“Well, I love your hair, it’s pretty. And you’re pretty,” George grinned at her slightly dazed. There may or may not had been a little too much firewhiskey involved.

“You’re so pretty,” he mumbled. They had stopped in the middle of the street, swaying a little on the spot, their arms still wrapped around each other, clinging on for dear life. He looked down at her, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “So pretty, with those eyes, and that _mouth_ ,” he let out a soft moan.

“Y’wanna take a closer look at my mouth?” Angelina asked, staring up at him, pupils blown and face heated.

“Yeah,” George breathed softly, inching his face closer to hers. He closed his eyes and then her lips met his and everything around them seemed to explode. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt anything softer before. Her mouth moved against his, full of passion. His tongue traced the shape of her cupid’s bow and when she gasped, he let it dart forward, entering her mouth, taking all of her. Her arms were locked tightly around his neck, her nails scratching his scalp in all the right ways, his hands were heavy on her back, entangled in her braids, pulling her flush against him, so he could feel every dip and every curve of her body.

When his hands travelled lower, resting on her bum, she moaned into his mouth, shoving him backwards against a brick wall. They didn’t care that they were in the middle of Diagon Alley, they didn’t care that everyone could possibly see them – and they were putting on quite a show. They were clutching each other, devouring each other as though they’d been starving for _months_.

George felt elated, he felt _alive f_ or the first time in weeks. He felt warm, soaking up her heat, drinking all of her in. After minutes or maybe it was hours, they broke apart, both panting heavily for a lack of oxygen. George wore a face-splitting grin and Angelina sighed blissfully as she rested her head against his chest.

“That …,” George spoke softly, “Blimey, that was fucking amazing.”

“I know,” Angelina chuckled, pulling him down to press another kiss – a short one this time – to his swollen lips. “Why haven’t we done this before?”

“I don’t really know. But I’d say we shouldn’t waste any more time, what’d you reckon?”

“Fuck, I agree.”

George grinned at her sheepishly, as he pulled her down the street, unlocked the door to the shop, throwing it shut behind them. She reached out, wrapping her arms around his neck while he guided them through the dark, towards the stairs leading to his flat.


End file.
